Arrived at the Bureau de la sûreté, Glynn remained outside, slowly pacing the street; and while he waited, somewhat to his surprise he saw Deering come out from a different door to that by which Lambert had entered. He was accompanied by a man in uniform, and walked briskly away, in the same direction in which Glynn was sauntering; but as they were considerably ahead of him, it was useless to attempt pursuit. Nor did Glynn particularly wish to speak with Deering. He felt that for some occult reason he was Lambert's enemy, and he entirely acquitted him of any share in Elsie's disappearance. That he should make independent inquiries was natural, as Lambert's treatment of him the previous day almost forbid their holding further intercourse; probably the man with him was an official interpreter. Glynn's thoughts were sufficiently painful as he strolled to and fro. He wished Lambert would voluntarily confide to him the secret of his enmity to Deering. He felt an unreasoning conviction that the extraordinary disappearance of Elsie was in some way connected with it.
Time went slowly, painfully; but at length a sergent de ville approaching, saluted him, saying, "Will monsieur give himself the trouble to enter? M. Le Chef wishes to speak to him."
Glynn followed readily, and found Claude alone.
"Monsieur Lambert awaits you in an ante-chamber," said the grave chef; "you shall soon be at liberty to join him. Meantime you will have no objection to answer a few questions." He proceeded to put a few leading queries as to Glynn's position and occupation, the origin of his acquaintance with Lambert, its renewal, his knowledge of Deering and Vincent, and their connection with father and daughter. The astute chef was courteous though searching, and having meditated for a moment or two, said, "I should recommend your advising your friend to confide every circumstance connected with his daughter to me. He is keeping something back, and that something nullifies all our efforts."
"I think he must have told you everything, especially connected with his daughter."
"There is small chance of success if he does not."
"I suppose you have no intelligence as yet?" said Glynn.
"This is all we have discovered," said M. Claude, throwing open the doors of a large armoire, or clothes-press, and there hung, in ghastly mockery, the pretty white ball-dress which had so delightfully become the wearer, its bouquets of wild flowers crushed and flattened, and a long revolting stain of half-dried mud along one side of the creamy silk.
"Good God!" exclaimed Glynn, starting back horror-struck. "Where—where did you find this?"
"One of our men found it near the Pont de L'Alma early this morning. See! here is where the lace and knot of ribbon were torn away. There is no other mark of violence. The intention evidently was to throw the parcel (it was tightly rolled up) into the Seine; but it fell short, and the river was low. You recognize the dress?"